


The Richness of Life

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-18
Updated: 2011-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-18 08:46:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur disappears, Ariadne tracks him down to find out what happened.</p><p> </p><p>Written for the prompt <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/17044.html?thread=34656916#t34656916">Ariadne wakes in a world where Arthur doesn't know her.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Richness of Life

"We do not remember days, we remember moments. The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten."  
Cesare Pavese

 

When Ariadne returned to Paris after the Fischer job, she threw herself into finishing her degree. It was tedious in comparison to working on dream levels, but it was real and solid and she knew she wouldn't get lost here. Still, she missed the easy camaraderie that she had with the others on the team. She had grown fond of thinking of them as her boys, even if they were all grown men and seasoned criminals. When they were working, it was serious. Well, mostly serious; some days, Eames simply couldn't keep a straight face and constantly needled Arthur for a reaction. Yusuf seemed to pick on him a lot for his experiments, but mostly Eames was out and about shadowing Browning and learning to become someone else. Cobb had been busy trying to keep his own obsessions in check.

Ariadne liked Arthur. He was straightforward and easygoing at the same time, attentive to the details and a consummate professional. There was a wicked sarcastic streak in him when off of the proverbial clock, and they had clicked. His kiss on the hotel level had been a hurried thing, but there had been a look in his eyes that seemed to hint that more could be possible if he had enough time to do it properly.

He hadn't said anything after the job finished, though he had smiled at her at the baggage claim. He'd pointedly made sure she saw him drop a folded slip of paper and had only left the area when she picked it up. It was a phone number, no name attached, but dialing it a few hours led him to her hotel room. He was dressed in a leather jacket, khakis and a button down shirt open at the throat. He stayed for a few hours, and she learned the curve of that throat, as well as the angles and planes of his body beneath his clothes. In turn, he memorized how her curves flowed, how her breath fractured at his touch.

Arthur had smiled at her, wide enough to show dimples. "I don't do this, usually. It's not a good habit, but..."

"You don't think I'm going to do more jobs, do you?"

"You have options," he had told her, shrugging. "You're not the kind to stay on the run and live out of a suitcase. You can do better than me."

"And if I think I can't?" she had challenged.

He had laughed, delighted. "Let's see if you still feel that way once you're officially ready to face the world."

That had been months ago. At first there had been visits to her apartment whenever he was in Paris, e-mails and calls and texts. They dried up when he was in Bombay for a job with Yusuf, but he sent a flurry of texts as soon as he was able to do so. He sent her pictures of the city, and a beautiful bolt of cloth he had purchased at a market that had reminded him of her golden eyes.

And then suddenly, everything stopped.

At first, Ariadne thought it was simply Arthur dropping off the grid after a job gone wrong. He hadn't warned her he was going on a job, but he was a grown man and didn't need to check in with her. When it started creeping into the second month of no contact, Ariadne started to seriously worry. What if something had happened to him? She didn't know anyone else involved in dream share, so there was no way to check if he had simply gone to ground. Arthur wanted her protected, after all, and the fewer people that knew she existed the better.

Ariadne met Miles at the university when she couldn't take it anymore. He was pleasantly surprised to see her; he wasn't supervising her for any classes that term. "Ariadne. Lovely to see you again," he said, letting her into his office. It was as cluttered as she remembered, full of papers, books, journals and blueprints. That brought out a smile in spite of her worry as she sat down in front of him. "I'm very glad things worked out well."

"Dom and the kids are okay, then?" she asked, seeing new photos on his desk.

Miles nodded and handed them over for her inspection, a proud grandfather. "He's a new man, which is a good thing. I don't think being a thief suited him."

Passing back the photos, she silently disagreed. There was a certain intensity about Cobb that she had noted while they had been working together, and she had the sense that he felt the ends justified the means. That was certainly an attitude that went far in the illegal aspects of dream share.

"I was wondering if there was a way to contact him," Ariadne began without preamble.

Blinking in surprise, Miles could only stare at Ariadne. "But I thought you weren't going to live that life."

"It's not that," she said, shaking her head. "I've been keeping in touch with Arthur, and it all just stopped two months ago. I don't know anyone else that would know if he's okay."

Miles seemed to breathe a little easier at that. "I know Arthur. He and my daughter were friends, you know."

"Arthur told me Mal was lovely. I didn't want to pry, though."

There was a lost, wistful smile on his face. "Well, she took after her mother that way. Charming almost to a fault, you understand," Miles said with a soft, pained laugh. "Arthur... He didn't take her death well either, but in his own way, I suppose. Dom would still have some contacts, but I do remember a few names, which could help you start looking. I don't want Dom involved, if that's possible."

"So he's not tempted to come back," Ariadne mused.

Miles nodded. "He needs to be home with the children. He needs to rebuild his life and learn how to be a father again. But if he thinks Arthur is in trouble, he might drop everything to help look for him. At least, I hope he would, that he hadn't forgotten who his friends are."

Ariadne clasped Miles' hand tightly. "I'm sure he hasn't. Dom has to have been a good man. Arthur would never have been so loyal to him otherwise."

The words made Miles smile. "Just so."

He went through his rolodex and wrote down three names and numbers on a slip of paper. "I don't know if they're still in the business or not. I've been out of it for years." He smiled ruefully in response to Ariadne's start of surprise. "They knew Arthur, years ago, before they had to turn to illegal activities. They might know how to track him down."

"Thank you," Ariadne murmured, taking the slip of paper. "I don't know what I'm going to do after graduation yet, but I'm worried about him, you know? I need to know he's safe."

"Good luck," Miles told her as she left.

Neither mentioned that Arthur probably needed it.

***

Patrick Gervais was dead. Saxon was no longer at that number. Uriel was no longer at that number, but the number on the slip now belonged to someone named Adler and he had heard of both Uriel and Arthur. "I worked with him once a year or so ago," Adler told Ariadne. "And the business isn't that big, yeah? I know someone that can probably track him down for you. Got a pen?"

She took the number down. "Thank you. Not that I'm not grateful, but... Why are you helping me? You don't even know me."

Adler laughed. "No, I don't. But I've heard of you and the hands off warning that went through the community." The words sent a chill down Ariadne's spine. "This ought to buy me a few good points with Arthur. He's the best, after all. Maybe you can put in a few good words once you find him. I could use the work."

"Yeah. I'll definitely do that." Ariadne figured it was the least she could do. "Thanks again for your help."

"Sure thing, pretty girl. Definitely mention it to Arthur."

Ariadne stared at her phone when she heard the dial tone. How much did the community know about her? How was she supposed to be as safe as Arthur wanted her to be?

A few more links in the chain, and Ariadne heard a familiar voice answering to the name Lionel Carrington. "Eames?" she asked, incredulous.

His laughter was warm in her ear. "In certain circles, yes. What can I do for you, Ariadne?"

"When was the last time you've seen Arthur?" she asked without preamble.

"Oh, not since LA. Why?"

"Have you heard anything about him? Or from him? Or from Yusuf?" she asked, a thin thread of panic evident in her voice.

"Ariadne," Eames said, voice serious. She could almost see his brows furrow in concentration. "What's happened?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "I haven't heard from him in over two months. I'm worried."

"Darling, it doesn't necessarily mean anything."

"I have this feeling," she whispered. She didn't have to hide anything from Eames. He knew her a little, and they had been friendly on the Fischer job. He also knew Arthur and his work style, so he would understand why she was worried. "Something's happened."

"I'll cast about, then," Eames said after a moment. "You've gone through quite a number of hoops so far to get to me at this number, haven't you?"

"I need to know what happened," Ariadne replied.

Eames paused. "There's whispers about you," he said abruptly. "This isn't going to help matters, if you were going to stay out of the business."

"Did Arthur talk to you about that?"

"We'd agreed on that before you went with us. I don't think it helped matters that you handled yourself just fine while on the job. He'd rather see you safe more than anything, you know. And if you're hunting him this hard, your name is all over the map now." Eames paused to let that sink in. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

Ariadne blew out a breath. "I haven't decided yet. I'm not averse to it, but I haven't decided."

"That wasn't the worst of it, you know. What we all did? That's not ordinary or common. It gets dangerous, Ariadne. You can't romanticize it."

Arthur had said something similar before she had returned to Paris. Ariadne closed her eyes and could still feel his touch along her skin, the press of his lips against hers. "I know I shouldn't. Maybe I don't know what I'm really getting myself into, but I need to know that Arthur's okay. I can deal with the rest of it if I know that much."

Eames sighed. "You have it bad, Ariadne."

She laughed mirthlessly. "I don't know what I have, but I need to know he's okay. I can figure everything else out later."

"All right. Might as well save all these numbers you've called so far. You're putting yourself out there and drawing notice. You might want to keep a few contacts along the way. Don't call them back, though. Hang tight and let me get back to you. It might take a while, but just stay where you are and don't do something stupid, yeah? I know these people, and you don't. You don't want to owe them favors."

"Thank you, Eames."

He chuckled. "Lionel on this number, darling. Best remember that."

"I won't forget," Ariadne promised. "It was good to hear from you."

"Likewise. I'll call you back in a few days, no matter what news I have. Stay safe."

"I will," she replied, but he had already hung up.

Now all she had to do was wait.

***

It took two weeks for Eames to find an address. "Just... Don't get your hopes up," he warned.

"What are you talking about?" she demanded.

"He's all right, but he didn't sound all right. If that makes any sense."

"None at all," Ariadne told him, her voice a little sharper than she intended. She took a deep breath. "Thank you. I mean it. No matter what I find, I really appreciate this."

"Yeah, well..." His voice trailed off a little uncertainly. He seemed to be weighing his options, if he should warn her off again or not. "Call me if you need me, all right?"

"I promise," Ariadne said, voice soft. "Thank you."

The address was in Bordeaux, which was easy enough to get to by train from Paris. Ariadne wondered why he hadn't contacted her, why Eames had seemed so hesitant on the phone. How badly had he been hurt?

She saw him at the train station, amazingly enough. He didn't seem to see her, and he was impeccably dressed as always. He had a messenger bag slung over one shoulder and a heavy attache case in hand. He was striding toward the departures area of the station confidently, head held high. "Arthur!" she called out, racing toward him. She hadn't brought more than a jacket and a backpack; if she had actual luggage as the other train passengers did, she might have missed him.

Arthur turned, and his forehead wrinkled slightly as he tried to place who might have called out to him. Just as he was about to turn back toward the departures, Ariadne raced into view.

His eyes slid right over her, as if he didn't know her at all, and he completed the turn.

Heart in her throat, Ariadne nearly skidded to a stop. She continued forward and grabbed his arm. "Arthur," she said, scolding and panic in her voice. "This isn't funny."

He looked at her blankly. "What are you talking about? Who are you?"

There was no recognition in his eyes. None. He didn't know her.

"Arthur," she began, her voice trembling. "This isn't funny. You know me. We've worked together."

His eyes raked over her form impersonally, as if they hadn't ever spent hours memorizing the feel of each others' skin. "I think I'd remember you if we did," he said, his voice cool and detached. She'd never heard it like that, even when they had first met in Paris.

"Paris. The Fischer job." There was no recognition in his eyes. "Dom Cobb introduced us. We worked with Eames and Yusuf..."

There was recognition in his eyes for the last three names, but that only made his eyes narrow. "I don't know who you're working for, but I can't be late."

"Please," Ariadne said desperately. "You've been missing almost three months. You have to remember."

He didn't. "You must be mistaken. We've never met before." He politely and disinterestedly peeled her hand from his arm. "Now, I really have to go."

Shocked, Ariadne could only watch as he walked away from her with the eyes of a stranger.

***

"I'm sorry, pet," Eames said, voice thick with sympathy. "Need me to come up there?"

She had a thesis to defend and a mystery to puzzle out. "I don't know." She took a deep breath. "He didn't know me. I don't understand, Eames. We worked together for months, and he and I dated after that. And he didn't know me at all. I was a stranger to him. It's like I woke up in a parallel universe and we've never met."

"Are you going to start crying again?" he asked, a trace of suspicion in his voice.

Ariadne clutched the phone and blinked back the tears that were already falling. "No."

"Liar," he sighed. "Let me ask around. Bordeaux isn't one of his usual haunts, from what I understand. Something may have happened."

They worked with dreams. They literally changed minds for a living. Of course something had happened.

"I need to know," Ariadne whispered. "Even if nothing ever changes, I need to know what happened."

"You may not like that, either."

"I'll deal with it." Ariadne wiped the tears from her face angrily. "I'll have to."

There had to be an explanation. There had to be a reason. She wouldn't accept anything less.

***

"Eames asked me to check up on you."

Ariadne looked over at Yusuf in surprise. He had knocked on the door to her apartment, and she was dressed in pajamas surrounded by books and journals. She let him in, wondering what was going on. "I've been okay. You could have just called."

Yusuf shook his head. "I wanted to see for myself if you were truly all right. He made it seem as though you were falling apart."

"I only talked to him over the phone," Ariadne said. She didn't want to admit that Eames was right. Things with Arthur hadn't really been that serious. They hadn't allowed it to be, though it could have been. Now she had nothing.

"He knows his craft," Yusuf said, voice gentle. "You've been busy," he commented, looking around the controlled chaos of her living room.

"I have my defense soon."

He nodded. "Yes, those are always difficult."

"Is there something I can help you with?" Ariadne asked, hoping she didn't sound rude.

Yusuf gave her a wide, pleased smile. "Actually, yes. But it helps you, too. When is your defense?"

"Next month."

"Perfect." He gave her a card with his name and a phone number on it. "Call me when you're done."

"That's it?"

"Oh, far from it, Ariadne. But I have a feeling you'll want to be involved. I have a feeling that this life draws you better than any other, and that searching for Arthur really was only the beginning of things."

"Do you know what happened?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"We think we know some of it," Yusuf said, smile slipping from his features. He looked much more somber as a result, and Ariadne felt fear coil in her belly. "But we don't know for sure. Call me after your thesis defense. Then you'll have time for what needs to be done."

Ariadne grasped his arm when he turned to leave. "Is it bad?"

"It depends," Yusuf told her, voice gentle. He closed his hand over hers on his arm and patted it gently. "The best case scenario, we can undo this."

"What happened?"

"So far as Eames can tell," Yusuf began slowly, "word got around after we left Bombay that Cobol Engineering still had a price on his head. There's one on Cobb's, too, but he's out of the business and far away from Kenya. But Arthur is still in the business, you understand. While he's the best, there were still failed extractions to pay for." He gave Ariadne an almost pitying glance. "No one knows where he was for a week. Normally not a problem, but Eames is trying to track down what happened during that week for you."

"Arthur wasn't hurt, though. Or at least he didn't look like it," Ariadne insisted.

"Perhaps not physically," Yusuf agreed, patting her hand again. "But you know as well as I do that there are other ways to get what you want from someone."

"Am I in danger?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"Depends on what you mean by danger," he answered. "No one wants you dead, if that's what you're asking. But you've attracted notice. There are whispers growing, and sooner or later, someone will ask you to work. If that's not what you want, you need to make it clear."

"I miss working with you," Ariadne said quietly. "The real world isn't the same anymore."

Yusuf's smile was soft and sad. "No. It never is." He got ready to leave. "Call me after your thesis, Ariadne, and not before. We'd never forgive ourselves if you didn't put your best effort into that degree of yours."

"It won't matter to the people I'd work with if I did dream design."

"It would matter to _us,"_ Yusuf said with a smile.

"I know I'm going to pass my defense," Ariadne told him with a confident smile. "I'll talk to you in a month."

Yusuf grinned and left her apartment. Ariadne looked around and seemed to take in the chaos with new eyes. It would drive Arthur up the wall if he saw it. He very much believed in having a professional appearance. It inspired confidence that you knew what you were doing, he had told her, grinning. "It doesn't always matter what the truth is, as long as people trust what they see. I'd look too young if I dressed like you. So like this, people are sure I'm as good as my reputation says I am."

She needed business appropriate clothes. One of his e-mails to her had mentioned an office building he used as a front sometimes in order to do his work, so he didn't have to stay with her during the day to get work done while he was in France. Its networks were easy for outsiders to use and difficult to trace, and there were built in redundancies in the phone lines.

It was time to be more proactive. Maybe he had forgotten her for her own protection. Maybe someone else had gotten to him. It didn't matter anymore; they had said that Arthur wasn't quite the same, and there were dangerous enemies after him. They had never discussed long term plans or what they meant to each other. His absence was a physical ache, and that told Ariadne more than a thousand little words could ever say.

She was going to find out what happened, and then she would make them pay.

***

Cobol Engineering made sure that it looked like it was a wholly legitimate company, and some of their direct competitors included Proclus Global and Fischer-Morrow. It really was a small world sometimes. Ariadne knew better than to simply call and ask if Cobol was willing to kill people that weren't officially on their payroll. She was new to the illegal dream share business, but that didn't mean she was stupid. She had gone to the office building Arthur had mentioned and looked through their website and all the information on various message boards about them. They had apparently opened a new branch office in Bordeaux, and were planning to expand their business into France and Spain.

Arthur had been in Bordeaux, and Cobol had a price on his head. Her heart froze in her chest. What had happened? What the hell was he doing? Had he pretended to forget her to keep her safe from Cobol?

Ariadne took a train to Bordeaux again. She was dressed in a dark gray structured skirt suit, partially hoping that Arthur would see it and recognize her wearing it. He wasn't at the apartment where he should have been staying, so she went to Cobol's Bordeaux office building. She had no idea what name he would be using, other than Arthur as a first name. She had no idea how to hack accounts; that had always been Arthur's job. She built things, he circumvented security and built defense plans.

Sitting in a park across from Cobol's new building, Ariadne realized that she couldn't let this go. She couldn't simply walk away from this life. She had seen into it, and now she couldn't unsee it. The real world held no interest for her anymore. It was too simple, and it annoyed her that people could come and go and not even notice what else was going on around them. They didn't know about the secret world of dream share, didn't know how dangerous their dreams could be.

Her breath caught when she saw a familiar face leaving the Cobol building. Arthur was dressed in black slacks, a pale blue shirt with white stripes and a brown tie with blue and white stripes on it. He was wearing his green raincoat and that messenger bag of his. He didn't look distressed at all, and in fact gave a polite nod and smile at someone else leaving the building along with him.

Without stopping to think about what she was doing, she fell into step beside him along the sidewalk. He didn't spare her a glance, which made her heart sink. Arthur, she wanted to say, don't you know me?

"Why are you following me?" he asked after a moment. She had no idea where they were even going, but it wasn't to his apartment. Ariadne merely looked at him. "I recognize you from the train station. You said you knew me."

"You don't recognize me?" she asked softly, unable to keep the hurt from her tone.

"No, I don't." He stopped and looked at her, eyes boldly raking over her form. Ariadne wanted to crawl under a rock and hide. His gaze was interested, but it was like any other man on the sidewalk appraising a woman. There was no emotion behind it, nothing to indicate that he remembered her touch. "I don't know you."

"You know Eames."

"I know the name. He's in Mombasa. We've worked together a few times." Arthur looked at her critically. "He wouldn't talk about you when I tracked him down after the incident in the train station."

"What are you doing here, Arthur?" she asked, managing to keep her tone even. "Cobol wants you dead."

Arthur frowned at her. "I don't know where you're getting your information from, whoever you are. You'd want to check its accuracy."

"They want you dead," Ariadne said, eyes searching his face. "You and Dom Cobb worked for them before, and you've failed extractions twice. Do you remember that?"

His eyes narrowed, and her skin crawled. She'd never seen him turn that expression on her. It was cold and frightening, as if there were no lengths he would not go to in order to get what he wanted. Ariadne no longer felt safe next to him, even though they were in public. "Who are you?" he hissed.

"We worked together a few months ago," Ariadne whispered. "It was a team of us in Paris."

"I was in Paris a few months ago, but I didn't work with you."

"Then who was your architect?" she snapped, unable to stop herself. "Who designed that second level with you in mind?" _Who did you kiss?_ she wanted to ask, but the look on his face stopped her from asking. He had his professional mask on, but there was some distress there.

"It doesn't matter," Arthur told her firmly. "That's over."

"You're leaving dream share?" she asked, disbelief evident.

"This conversation is over," he declared, beginning to walk again. She didn't miss the tell tale narrowing of his eyes when he realized that she was falling in step beside him. "Why are you following me?"

"You may not remember me, and I'll have to deal with that, but something happened three months ago. You went missing, Arthur."

"I was moving," he snapped, and the tone of voice sounded an awful lot like justification to her. Or maybe she just hoped it was.

"What do you remember, Arthur?" she asked. "What do you remember about Paris?"

Arthur stopped short again, bristling with anger. _"Stop digging,"_ he hissed at her, turning that frightening expression to her. "Leave me alone. I don't remember you."

He stalked off before she could respond, and she saw him rub his temple as if his head hurt him. _The best case scenario, we can undo this,_ Yusuf had said. Had someone taken his memories of her?

***

"You've been a naughty girl, Ariadne," Eames drawled.

Ariadne smiled at the sound of his voice on the other end of the phone line. "Really? What have you heard?"

"Someone looking like you, only dressed much more businesslike and not so bohemian, showed up in Bordeaux two days ago." Eames chuckled. "You really don't let go of things, do you?"

"Not if I can help it," Ariadne replied, sinking down onto her couch.

"You have the thesis defense soon."

"I'm going to do well," she said, shrugging even though he couldn't see it. "I'm not worried about the outcome." Indeed, it was hard to care about it now, so there was nothing to worry about. She passed it or she didn't. That didn't matter as much to her anymore.

"Darling, Arthur would be most upset with you."

"He would, if he remembered me," she told him sharply.

Eames let out a sigh. "You know about extraction and inception. You've never heard of eradication."

There was a sinking sensation in Ariadne's belly. "No. None of you really went in depth into anything outside of the job we were working on."

"And you didn't ask much about it. Eradication... It's exactly what it sounds like."

"You think that's what's happened?"

"It might," Eames said slowly. "Yusuf's talking with the managers of other dream dens. Eradication, like inception, is one of those things that theoretically is possible but is bloody difficult to do. We're talking about human memory, after all. It's a tricky thing to even sift through for an extraction, and eradication is more than that. It's finding the particular memories you want and permanently removing them." He blew out a breath. "What do you know about human memory?"

"Not a thing. I've only done art history and architecture theory. I tried to avoid science classes."

Eames laughed. "Right, then. The simple version. Memory is a complex thing, and even the bigwigs in neuroscience don't know exactly how it all works. But you have immediate memory, short term memory and long term memory. You learn by repetition, right?"

"Right."

"It's consolidating memory traces, moving things from immediate to short term to long term memory. There are ways to make associations stronger, usually by pairing memories with emotions or other memories, creating a complex web of ideas and procedures and memory within the mind. You forget when the associations weaken, when there's brain damage along those traces, when the emotional states used to create the memory are gone."

"They erased me."

"Perhaps not completely."

"What do you mean?"

"He called you Ari when he called me. That's why we've the hope we can reverse this. Yusuf's talking to other dream dens, seeing how common eradication is, even on a minor scale. It's something that had to have been done under deep sedation, multiple layers."

"Like inception, but in reverse. Instead of implanting an idea, it's taking it away."

"Precisely." There was the sound of rustling papers near the phone. "I know he said you should call him after the thesis defense."

"It's just over three weeks away."

"You're _certain_ you have it in the bag?"

"Yes," Ariadne lied. She simply didn't care about it any longer.

"Arthur's working for them now, as one of their point men. Cobol had a few people on their side that knew him, knew just where to press. I assume they threatened to go after Cobb if he didn't cooperate with them."

"Then why erase _me?"_

"I don't know." Eames paused. "Yusuf and I... If we go in and try to reverse this, I know you want in on it. You have to understand just how dangerous it's going to be. He's going to be militarized. We don't know how deep this is. We could all get lost doing this."

Ariadne understood this and didn't care about the risk. "So why would you do it?"

"There's something about doing the impossible once that makes you think about doing it again," Eames replied, a smile in his voice. "Perhaps it's all about incentive, about triggering the proper memory to bring it all back."

"You really think it might work?"

"It's worth a try, isn't it?" Eames asked her quietly. "He's a good man, our Arthur. He's as honorable as they come, one of the few I'd work with without question. He's not himself, but he doesn't know why. If there's anything he hates, it's not understanding something, not knowing something."

Oh, she understood that feeling all too well. It was what drove her to finish Cobb's stupid mazes when he was talking with her at the university, to come back to experience the creation of the dreaming, to stay in contact with Arthur even though she knew full well how difficult and dangerous it could be.

"Just tell me what to do and I'll do it."

"Good girl. Let me talk to Yusuf, make arrangements. I'll get back to you, likely next week. Whatever happens, I want this done so you can defend that thesis."

"At this point, I think you care about it more than I do."

Eames gave a sad chuckle. "No, Ariadne. It's because Arthur would've wanted it that way."

***

Yusuf fell into step with Ariadne as she left the library. "You've been busy, I hear."

Ariadne laughed. "Is Eames tattling on me?"

"Well, yes. But I also received word from a mutual friend of ours. He's been working with an architect named Nash, someone he's worked with in the past. He wanted me to confirm if that's the architect we worked with on the Fischer job."

She gave him a sidelong glance. "And what did you say?"

"That I've never met the man, and I would not work with anyone unless they were highly recommended. I know he's starting to follow the whispers about the Fischer job."

"What are they?"

"That the impossible was made possible." Yusuf's smile was fond. "I have more dreamers to care for in my den now, so much to keep me busy in the lab."

"I'm glad for you. I know that's what you prefer doing."

"I can convince Arthur to come to us quietly. There will be no physical security to speak of, and if this works, the dream security might be lessened." Yusuf looked up at the sky and tugged his vest down. "Your visit made him curious. His memories are shaky, and that's starting to wear on him."

"Arthur likes things specific," Ariadne said with a soft smile.

"His head hurts when he tries to remember Paris. He doesn't like what that means."

"What?"

"That perhaps the offer he couldn't refuse wasn't a real one." Yusuf shrugged and looked over at her. "He mentioned threats, but didn't explain what they were. This is a difficult situation, you realize. Cobol could still kill him if they understand he's starting to fight this."

"I still don't understand why they would erase me from his memory."

Yusuf took her hand quietly and squeezed it gently in the face of his pain. "If you're fighting this hard to get him back, don't you think he'd fight just as hard to get back to you?"

Tears welled up in her eyes. "I'd hope so. But we never said..."

"When we were in Bombay, it was a nasty job. Real life security and secrets, subconscious security. Messy. When we were in hiding, he told me that he had no other options but to survive. He had to get back to you. He had to tell you he was all right. He had presents to give you." Yusuf pulled her into a tight hug and let her cry against his chest. "For him to stay with Cobol, there had to be nothing left to come back to."

"How do I get even?" she sobbed. "They took him from me, Yusuf. If I never get him back... What can I do to make them hurt like this?"

Yusuf stroked her hair gently. "Ariadne the real world architect would never be able to do anything about it. Ariadne the dream architect can."

Ariadne looked up with tears streaking down her face. "I'm already halfway there, aren't I?" He nodded solemnly. "I think I'm ready to go the rest of the way. I don't care about my thesis. That's why I know I'll do well. I don't care enough to fail."

He laughed. "One less thing to worry about, then." He brought her to a cafe. "You and I will have a coffee, and we will talk of other things for a time. And when you are calm, we'll figure out who we can count on and who we can bring into this. Revenge will flow from there."

***

Adler was more than happy to help, as was Gabriel Renner, another of the contacts Ariadne had acquired in her search for Arthur. Ariadne assumed she had been told their real names, but Eames' smirk made her think otherwise. Eames collected names the way other people seemed to collect coins, and Ariadne supposed it was a habit she might eventually have to pick up as well. She was trying not to focus on the fact that this was all illegal work.

Ariadne still had the money from the Fischer job in a Swiss account, and was planning to use that to pay the others. When she mentioned it to Yusuf and Eames, they looked at her thoughtfully. "I suppose this _is_ a job," Eames had said.

"For someone ambivalent about this profession, you take to it very quickly," Yusuf remarked.

She wasn't sure if it was a compliment or not.

"Tell you what," Eames said, grinning at her as if he was letting her in on a tasty secret. "I'll work for a reduced fee. I know Adler and Renner will be pretty cheap. I won't speak for Yusuf, but you may still have a tidy little nest egg to pay off those student loans with."

Ariadne nodded as Yusuf mentioned his consulting fee. There was no need to say that Saito had paid off her tuition fees in full in addition to her share of money from the Fischer job, thinking that he owed her for going into limbo to complete the job. She worked out the payments and let Eames take the lead on figuring out how to reverse the eradication. They would need to go three layers deep, starting in the third layer to uncover remote traces of memory. Once they were able to unlock the underpinnings of the eradication, they could go up a level and continue to reverse the process, finally coming to the first layer. The vault would be under guard with all sorts of locks and keys, but once they got the vault open, all of Arthur's memories should return once he woke up.

Assuming everything proceeded according to theory.

It was going to take time to get the levels ready. There was two weeks to her thesis defense, and Eames and Yusuf absolutely forbade her from working on the mazes. They wanted her to focus on her defense, to make sure she did well so that she didn't throw everything away if she still wanted to have a legitimate job. Ariadne found it endearing, in an overbearing and possessive kind of way. She already knew that she was going to borrow heavily from the levels she had designed for the Fischer job anyway. The hotel level in particular would be important, and she was planning to use that as the third level of the dream. The first level would be Paris, focusing on her apartment and the warehouse they had worked in for the Fischer job. The second level was up in the air, as she couldn't decide what to do.

As she left her defense two weeks later, she was musing the problem of the second level. She took a wrong turn and happened to pass by a tailor, and the sign in the window indicated that the tailor could create any garment. Ariadne thought of the cloth Arthur had bought her in Bombay, still sitting in the wrapping because she hadn't known what to do with it.

Everything fell into place at that moment. Successfully getting her degree paled in comparison.

***

Yusuf called Arthur once the entire team knew what they were doing with the levels. Adler was taking the first level, Renner was taking the second and Yusuf was dreaming the third level. This would leave Arthur the subject in all levels, with both Eames and Ariadne able to focus on reversing the eradication while the others could focus on maintaining the dream. Ariadne knew she didn't have to discuss the possibility of limbo with Eames and Yusuf, and she knew she wasn't exactly looking forward to a return trip. There would be no coordinated kicks in this particular job. They would have to kick themselves up a level at a time when they completed each task.

Arthur stopped short when he entered the hotel room Yusuf was staying in. He saw the entire team waiting there, and turned suspicious eyes toward Yusuf. "This is exactly what we discussed on the phone, Arthur," Yusuf told him in mild tones. "We believe that an eradication was performed."

"The girl, then," Arthur guessed. "Ari."

Eames smiled. "See? You remember something. So we should be able to undo everything."

Arthur narrowed his eyes at Eames. "Why should I believe you? You're an asshole."

"So?" Eames replied, unrepentant. "You say that like I'd lie about this. Have I ever done you a bad turn on a job, Arthur?" His compressed lips were answer enough, and Eames nodded. "Just so. Personalities aside, this is the truth. On that other job almost a year ago now, the lot of us did the impossible. The architect..."

"Was me," Ariadne said, coming into the main part of Yusuf's hotel room. She had been changing in the bathroom when Arthur arrived, and she was wearing the dress that the tailor had made from the cloth Arthur had purchased. "I looked different then," she said, lips quirking into a smile.

Arthur's eyes raked over her form; the dress clung to her, and the brilliant turquoise of the fabric complimented her pale skin. It was shot with green and gold, which served to make her eyes look like molten honey. He winced suddenly at the stabbing pain in his temple, and had to reach out to touch the wall. "Oh, God, my head."

"Memories will out," Renner drawled, shrugging. "I'd heard of this once before, you know. Didn't take long for people to know something had happened, and it didn't stick."

"Then again, Arthur also moved," Eames said, pulling Arthur toward the bed. "Listen. You know most of us here. Right now you think you don't know Ariadne, but you do." He tapped Arthur's temple lightly. "In there, someone boxed her up tight so you'd stay the hell away from Paris. We just want to undo the wrapping so you can be your stick in the mud self again. No more, no less."

Arthur looked up at Ariadne with a grimace. "You're sure you're not trying to do anything else?"

Ariadne approached Arthur slowly and reached for him. Her fingers skimmed his shoulder lightly. "Even if nothing goes back to the way it was, you should be the one to make that choice, not someone else. You should have your memories back."

Yusuf shrugged when Arthur looked to him. "You were happier then, Arthur. You really were."

He let out a breath. Ariadne could see the concern and fear there. If someone could get into his mind and change parts of him, who was to say that they wouldn't be doing the same thing? Arthur prized his autonomy.

"We'll be careful," Ariadne promised, clasping one of his hands in hers. "I promise."

Arthur looked up at her, managing not to wince at the headache he was having. "Why do I believe you?"

She gave him a melancholy smile. "I'd never hurt you, Arthur. I'd never allow that."

Yusuf got out a PASIV and got the lines ready. All of the people in the room assembled around it, and he carefully put the lines in for everyone involved before taping down his own lead. One last check of the compounds, and then he looked over at everyone. "Are we ready?" He waited for everyone's nods. "Sweet dreams," he murmured as he hit the button.

***

They were all together in the warehouse in Paris where the planning for the Fischer job had taken place. Lawn chairs were spread in a circle around another PASIV, and Yusuf repeated his procedure without Adler. Adler stood outside of the circle and watched over everyone. He pressed the button once everyone was settled, then turned to keep an eye out for Arthur's projections. He may be cooperating, but Cobol might have set traps to protect their investment.

They woke in Renner's level, and Yusuf had to smile at the hustle and bustle of Bombay. "Oh, Ariadne. It's gorgeous. Just like when we were last there."

She beamed at the praise and pointed ahead at an elegantly built structure. "That should be safe enough to go down again."

The chaise lounges were comfortable, and there were no interruptions hooking Arthur, Ariadne, Eames and Yusuf into the PASIV waiting for them. Renner had a shotgun slung around his shoulders on a strap and a machine gun in hand. "Overkill much?" Eames asked him.

Renner snorted. "Arthur's too good not to be prepared. Just do your job and get up here so we can get the fuck out."

Arthur couldn't help but smirk. "Nice to know you think that highly of me."

"You're one of the best," Renner said, shaking his head. "That means if you change your mind about this, we're all fucked."

"And on that happy note," Eames interrupted, patting Arthur's shoulder so he could lie back on his lounge, "let's get started."

The four remaining dreamers woke in the dream hotel Ariadne had built for Fischer.

Arthur crashed to his knees as soon as he saw the lobby. He grabbed his head, crying out in pain. He was wearing the suit he had worn for the Fischer job, and Ariadne was in the same light gray structured suit with her hair up. She had hated that outfit, feeling so uncomfortable in it, but she wanted to trigger every last trace of memory that she could. Kneeling beside Arthur, she took his shoulders gently.

"You said I'm not the kind to stay on the run and live out of a suitcase. You said that I can do better than you."

He looked up at her with bleary eyes. The projections in the hotel all stopped and stared at them. Eames started to ease back toward the wall, a hand reaching into his suit jacket. Yusuf backed up beside him as well. It was only Arthur and Ariadne in the center of their attention now, and both men intended to start shooting if the projections so much as moved.

"It hurts," Arthur whispered, fingers scrabbling against the floor.

"Yes," Ariadne replied, leaning into him. "Where do we need to go to be safe?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. You know." She pressed her lips against his temple. "Where do we go to feel safe?"

"Room 528," he gasped, eyes screwing shut. "I remember... charges... Oh, God, my _head."_

"Let's go," Ariadne said, taking his arm and pulling him to his feet. When they passed the couch where they had kissed in the Fischer job, she stopped. She looked at him earnestly, knowing full well that all of his projections were still watching her closely. "Quick, give me a kiss."

Arthur cried out and collapsed in her arms. She held him upright, able to bear his weight in the dream. His face was right beside hers, and she pressed her lips to his gently. It was just a brushing of lips, no tongue or teeth or desire, a soft exploration. Arthur looked up at her with a plaintive expression, his fingers digging painfully into her shoulders as he fought to regain his balance. He looked around, the projections still staring.

"They're staring at us."

Ariadne wanted to cry as she grinned at him. "It was worth a shot."

He flinched, fingers digging even tighter into her shoulder, but he allowed her to drag him toward the elevator bank. Eames and Yusuf followed as the projections slowly turned away and began to move. They knew this was only a reprieve and only because Arthur was conscious enough to suppress his own projections. If the pain grew so great that he lost control, the projections would start to swarm.

They made it to room 528 without any problems, though Ariadne had to support Arthur. He was doubled over in pain, eyes screwed tight. As they approached the door, he started to make whimpering sounds, unable to tolerate the pain any longer. There were people around the corner at the end of the hallway, eyes hollow and angry as they stared at the four of them in front of the room.

"Eames..." Ariadne began.

"On it," he said sharply, drawing his USP Compact. The projections crumpled as he fired, and Yusuf kicked in the door. He helped Ariadne drag Arthur inside and lay him down on the bed for a moment's respite.

Eames shut the door and leaned against it heavily. "Now what?" he asked.

Ariadne turned to Arthur. She touched his forehead. "Why is it safe in here?" she asked him quietly.

"Charges downstairs. They'll go off for the kick," he murmured. "I was telling... Nash? No, not Nash. Too short to be Nash... Someone. In here." He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, a soft whimpering sound in his throat that nearly made Ariadne scream in frustration. "The ceiling," he said softly.

Everyone looked up at the ceiling of room 528. The plaster was cracked, and it looked like the shape of a door was made from the elaborate cracking pattern. Ariadne dreamed up a ladder and climbed up to the ceiling. Eames and Yusuf were at either side of the door, guns drawn. Arthur was sprawled across the bed, a fine sheen of sweat on his skin. As Ariadne reached up toward the door, she could see the knob clearly. There was no key for the lock, and the knob didn't turn. The cracks looked like a spider's web, and she would have to clear that first.

Not able to bear the sight of Arthur in pain, she set fire to the web with a lighter she pulled from the suit jacket pocket. It went up immediately, and there was a howling outside of the hotel. "Fuck, you tripped something," Eames said.

"Time to work fast," Yusuf told Eames with a sigh.

"Do your magic, Ariadne," Eames said, yanking the door to the room open. "We'll lead them on a chase."

"Merry chase," Arthur corrected. "I told you I'd lead them on a merry chase."

Eames grinned at him. "Good man. Hold on, and we'll get this all sorted."

Ariadne didn't have time to say anything before the two men locked the room behind them. Taking a deep breath, she climbed down and curled up next to Arthur. He gave a soft moan, his eyes squeezed tight, and she stroked his hair the way she used to when they would lie awake in her apartment. "It hurts, Ariadne," he whispered.

She threaded her fingers through his hair and pressed her lips to his temple. She started humming something that had been playing on the radio the last time she had seen him, when they had awkwardly tried dancing in her living room. Disregarding the tears falling into his hair, Ariadne held him close and rocked him slowly. Arthur clutched at her jacket tightly, his eyes closed. "Yusuf said it had to have happened after we left Bombay. I remember the beating in Morocco," he said, voice trembling. "I can't remember anything past that."

"There would be a key," Ariadne said softly. "This room is safe, so that means the key has to be here somewhere." She ignored the sound of shouts and gunshots from the hallway. They were all the way down at the end of the hallway, leading away from this room. She still had time.

"I can't remember..."

"It doesn't matter about the specifics," Ariadne told him. "It's not the memory that matters, really. It's what they mean, how they change you, how they shape you." She smiled against his hair. "You changed me. Little things, stupid things. It was the dreaming at first..."

"Pure creation," Arthur rasped.

She grinned. "Exactly. It's pure creation. I couldn't resist. And I couldn't stop from coming back, even if it seemed like a bad idea. You wouldn't let me stay in this business."

"You had to finish your degree," Arthur said, turning in her embrace. He looked up her with a pained expression. "You need options."

"The only option I need is the one that keeps me near you," Ariadne murmured.

The howling increased outside of the hotel, and there were more gunshots in the distance.

Arthur reached beneath the pillow and pulled out an elaborately wrought silver skeleton key. "Then take this. You don't know what you're unlocking."

Ariadne smiled gently at him as her hand closed around the key. "Yes, I do. And it's all right. I understand what I'm doing."

She climbed the ladder and pushed the key into the lock near the doorknob in the ceiling. Arthur looked at her anxiously, not sure what would happen once she turned the key. Ariadne pulled open the door in the ceiling, and a rush of air came out. Ariadne managed to avoid falling or letting the ladder fall on top of her. She didn't want to be kicked up a level and couldn't afford to get hurt. Death would likely send her to limbo, and she didn't enjoy the thought of a return trip.

After the air stopped, Ariadne looked up. Arthur was slowly coming off of the bed, looking up at the open door. It seemed as though there was a shimmery skin keeping water trapped behind it. The cracks in the ceiling were more pronounced, and it looked as though there were more and more cracks being created as time went on. Ariadne stood and threaded her fingers through his. "I'm with you, Arthur," she said, voice firm and even. She meant it with every fiber of her being. "This level might have set things in motion for us, but what we have isn't a dream. It isn't a forgotten memory. It's real, and I want it back."

The shimmering skin abruptly burst as Arthur opened his mouth to speak. The howling outside abruptly cut off, and Ariadne heard the pounding of feet in the hallway as water crashed down over them in a punishing flood. It knocked both Ariadne and Arthur to the ground as the hotel room door opened. Ariadne got a flash of surprise on Eames' face as she fell.

She woke in Bombay.

Sitting up slowly, Ariadne saw Arthur rub at his eyes with the hand not attached to the PASIV. "How are you feeling?" she asked as she removed her line. Renner was at the window, shooting intermittently. Ariadne came to Arthur's side to help him remove the line.

"Like something is rolling around in my head."

"Then I think it worked."

Arthur opened his eyes and saw the dress made of turquoise fabric. "That does look beautiful on you." He didn't grimace with a headache. "I remember the Fischer job. Pieces of it that were hard to remember before. I remember teaching you about paradoxes."

Ariadne grinned as Eames and Yusuf gasped awake. "I remember that, too."

"Bloody hell. That was a nasty flood down there."

"Mind helping me if you're all awake and alive over there?" Renner snapped from the window. "About an hour ago those jokers out there started opening fire."

Eames pulled a rocket launcher from beneath his chaise lounge, earning him an annoyed snort from Arthur. "All you had to do was ask," he said gaily.

Yusuf stretched and looked around. "Not as terribly exciting as we all feared it would be."

"Yet," Arthur said, massaging his temples. "I don't know what the next step is going to be."

Ariadne stood. "The market," she said, surety in her tone. "You need to find the pieces they tried to hide. You need to get parts of your life back."

"What if I can't? What if they're destroyed?"

She had thought of that, and there was always the possibility of starting over. Arthur cared for her, and it was only a matter of reawakening that affection. She held out her hand for Arthur to take. "You can still lead a rich and full life without a handful of memories. It means that if you want to, you can make them all over again."

He grasped her hand tightly and stood. "Then let's go."

"We'll hold them off here," Yusuf said, moving to the front of the building with a gun in hand. "Move quickly and quietly, and they may not notice you've left at all. Let us know when it's time to administer the kick."

"Thank you," Ariadne murmured, smiling at him. He grinned and waved them off, retrieving his own gun from beneath the table holding the PASIV.

Slipping out of the back of the building, they made their way through the maze of alleys and streets until they came to the open air market. She didn't know exactly where to look first, and Arthur seemed just as baffled. "Where should I even begin to look?"

They flinched when they heard a boom and rattle off in the distance. "Pick a direction," Ariadne suggested. "Then work your way around the circle."

There was a bottle of perfume that Arthur was drawn to, though he couldn't have said why. He put it in the red plastic shopping basket that Ariadne was suddenly holding, as if this was an ordinary thing in an open air market. There was a painted square of fabric that could have been a handkerchief of some kind, and a red woman's jacket; both evoked such longing in him that it was hard to breathe. Arthur picked out a package of gel pens he ordinarily would never use, and frowned at the urge to keep them. He grasped hold of a package of postcards with indecipherable writing on the backs of them, and looked at a cut crystal bottle that was completely unfamiliar but something he just had to have. "You'd like this," he found himself saying shyly, and Ariadne grinned at him so wide that her face looked as though it would crack in two.

The plastic basket was full of odds and ends, looking like the remnants of a life rather than a collection of items indicating a relationship. "What if I never remember?" Arthur asked her quietly.

"Then you don't," she said, a warble in her voice. "But you're the sum of all your memories, aren't you? You're influenced by everything you've ever known, done, seen, people you talk to or bump into..." She looked down at the basket to hide the tears starting to form in her eyes. "You can never tell what will change you. The littlest thing sometimes..."

Arthur reached over and tilted her chin up to look at him. "I'm sorry this hurts you," he murmured softly.

"I know how much you would hate not knowing," she whispered.

His eyes raked across her face, _seeing_ her, understanding everything she couldn't say. "Quick, give me a kiss."

She leaned up on tip toes as his mouth slanted down over hers. It was soft, a brushing of lips against each other, nothing like the torrid attempts to devour each other whole that they used to do.

"You missed your cue," Arthur said, amusement in his tone and his eyes crinkling in the corners as he looked down at her upturned face and expectant expression.

Ariadne couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up out of her. He remembered that ridiculous line he had thrown at her, testing the waters after all those looks and touches and innocent-seeming gestures during the planning stages. "You remember that?"

"Some of it." Arthur smiled, eyes crinkling and that dimple nearly showing. He slid a hand along her cheek, fingers threading through her hair. "This was up. It was pinned up high, I remember that. I remember you smiling at me, and how light you were in my arms when I had to lift you up to move you for the kick."

She put her hand on his chest and Arthur knocked the basket from her other hand. Everything shattered, sending up clouds of glittering dust. It coated them as they stood there staring at each other, and Arthur looked at her with a thoughtful expression. "What if you're incepting me to love you?" he asked softly.

"I never even mentioned you loving me," Ariadne whispered, looking up at him.

"I wouldn't let you say it," Arthur said in response without thinking. "But now... You're not the one doing this," Arthur said suddenly, surety in his tone. "You've been so careful to let me be the one to find things. The perfume for your mother, the postcards for you and your sister... You aren't leading me through this at all."

"You need to be _you._ That's all I want."

The other shoppers in the marketplace turned toward them both at once, eyes flat and shining black. A chill went down Ariadne's spine at the sight of it. "Oh, God," she breathed, clutching Arthur's arms tightly.

"They're mine," Arthur said quietly. None of the projections were moving, and Arthur retrieved a signal flare from one of the market stalls. He pulled the trigger and it shot the flare into the sky, where it exploded into glittering dust, rather like the memory traces from the shopping basket. "I'm holding them back. I want to remember," he murmured. "I want to know what they stole from me."

As one, all of the projections turned and pointed toward a tall building at the edge of the market. "What are they doing?" Ariadne asked, frightened.

"They're pointing where we need to go. I think the others would've gotten the hint by now."

"I don't hear any gunfire."

Arthur smiled at her. "Exactly. They'll catch up. Let's go."

They started walking toward the building, and sure enough, when Ariadne turned around she could see Eames leading the way toward the market. The building was tall, and there was a river nearby. That piece of geography was strictly for the dream, and Ariadne could see what Arthur meant to do with the building. If they fell from it, that would be the kick to the higher level.

It was easy enough to climb to the top of the building and step out onto the balcony. "Ladies first?" Arthur asked her, a smile on his face.

Ariadne snorted. "Since when?"

"Don't I let you come at least a half dozen times first?" Arthur replied with a saucy grin.

For a second, Ariadne froze. "Is that what you remember?"

Arthur blinked at her in surprise. "I... I must remember something."

Yusuf came up onto the balcony first, followed by Renner and then Eames in the rear with a machine gun. "What?" he asked defensively at Arthur and Ariadne's incredulous stares at it. "I don't trust those bloody projections, even if they're suppressed. They're creepy as fuck."

"Man's got a point," Renner pointed out.

"We're jumping to level one," Ariadne told them.

"You think you unlocked enough on this level?" Yusuf asked, doubt creeping into his tone. "I'm fairly sure we only get one shot at this. Otherwise, who knows what possible damage we would do."

"I think we're ready," Arthur told them decisively. "And since it's my head, we're jumping."

"On three, then," Renner said, getting up onto the balcony's railing. He turned so that his back was facing away from them. The others clambered up onto the railing as well. "One... two... three."

They all pushed off the railing, falling out onto the water.

At once, they woke gasping in the warehouse. Smoke was everywhere, and Adler was cursing up a storm. "The hell?" Eames snapped, sitting up on his lawn chair.

"Shit got real half an hour ago," Adler grumbled. "Whatever the hell you guys did down there, it stirred things up but good up here." He let off another stream of curses and then lobbed a grenade out of the broken window.

"Well, that's not the way out," Renner said sourly, looking at it.

"Where would the safe be, anyway? It's not here, I wouldn't think," Eames said, looking around as he yanked the PASIV tubing from his hand. He made a soft hissing noise. "You'd think these things wouldn't hurt in a dream."

"That's why you should always use proper technique," Yusuf said. He had the air of someone who had said something similar at least a thousand times before. He probably had. Standing, he looked around the warehouse. "But yes, I wouldn't think this is where the safe would be. I don't think Arthur would think fondly on this place or feel it's a location to keep his secrets."

Arthur looked around the room after removing his own line. Without even thinking about it, he removed Ariadne's and helped her stand up, much as he always used to do while they were preparing for the Fischer job. He looked confused. "I know where it is. It's not here, but I know where it is."

"Lead us on, then. You might want to suppress the murderous fuckers outside, huh?" Adler said, lobbing another grenade out of the window.

It was harder to do that on this level, but Arthur managed to get them quiet. "Okay, they just look freaking creepy," Renner said, looking out of the window next to Adler. "Worse than downstairs, if you get my drift." He looked back at them with misgiving in his expression. "How much of this is you, and how much of it was them messing with your head?"

Arthur stalked toward the window and looked outside. Everyone was in some kind of a suit, armed to the teeth and staring up at the window with barely concealed rage in their hollow eyes. "That's not usually how they look," he murmured. "I think it must be some kind of security measure put in place. If they really did an eradication, everything I've heard about that points to security measures meant to stop me from remembering."

"So you're saying we came in here for nothing?" Adler asked, annoyed.

"No. This means I can probably still suppress them on the way to the safe. It probably also means that the safe is booby trapped."

"Well, then, let's start." Eames smiled, the same machine gun from earlier in hand. "I'm ready."

"You take entirely too much pleasure shooting those things," Arthur grumbled.

"Point in fact," he agreed easily. "Only way to be sure they stay down if you need them to be." He nodded at the steps leading out of the warehouse. "Lead the way to the safe, then."

For someone who was supposed to have forgotten Ariadne, Arthur unerringly led them all straight to her apartment. The projection army tailed them, armed and dangerous looking, even if they simply fell into lock step and refused to leave. Arthur couldn't seem to make them disappear; distance was the best he could do in this state.

"Someone's changed the way your mind is militarized," Adler observed. "I didn't think that was possible."

"Improbable, maybe," Eames muttered. "So much of this business is nothing but making the improbable probable."

"There's talk that someone got an inception to work," Renner mused. "How do you think that works?"

"Let's just figure out if we can reverse this eradication," Arthur said crisply, not wanting to talk about the Fischer job, even obliquely. If there were whispers about it, someone could try to figure out who the likely team members were. It would go either very, very well or very, very badly. He would be a poor point man if he didn't plan for the worst case scenario. Regardless of his feelings for Ariadne or Eames or Yusuf, he would never allow anyone he worked with to come to harm because of his poor planning. He already felt bad enough for not realizing that Fischer had been militarized on the job.

"I think I know where we are," Eames murmured as they walked. He looked at the building they were standing in front of, then looked at Ariadne. "This is very interesting, don't you think?"

Arthur ignored him and pushed the door open to the building. He took the stairs two at a time, heading unerringly for Ariadne's apartment on the third floor. He took a key from his pocket, and Ariadne saw that it was the same ornate key that he had given her to open the ceiling door on the third level. He unlocked the door to her apartment and led them all inside. Her living room looked exactly the same as the last time he had seen it, down to the rolled up blueprints and messy stacks of reference books she had been working on for a critique before he had left for Bombay. Eames and Yusuf exchanged a knowing glance. Adler and Renner headed straight for the windows, their guns in hand. They didn't trust Arthur's projections at all, and Ariadne was glad that someone was watching their backs. She had eyes for Arthur, who was looking over everything in the apartment with a critical eye.

"This is familiar," he murmured. The ornate key was clenched in his hand, knuckles white with pressure. "I know this place. I don't know how, but I _know_ this place."

Ariadne didn't say anything, and simply watched as Arthur stalked around her living room. The safe was here, he was sure of it, but he wasn't entirely sure where it was. It could be anywhere, and he would know it once he passed it by.

Arthur stopped abruptly in his circuit around the room. He pivoted sharply on one heel and headed to the bedroom. The door was closed, and the knob refused to turn under his hands. There was an old fashioned keyhole by the knob, a cover in place over it. Ariadne knew that it wasn't there in real life, and this had to be where Arthur had placed the safe. His lost memories would be inside, hale and whole, ready to be taken back up and made a part of him once again.

The click of the tumblers in the lock was loud in the tense silence. "They're looking up, Arthur. Whatever you're doing, speed it the hell up!" Adler said, agitated. He had his finger on the trigger of his Walther PPK, sweat breaking out along his temple. "They're freaking creepy!"

Arthur opened the door to the bedroom, and he was facing an old fashioned vault door. It had a dial and a long metal handle, and Arthur stared at it blankly. "I don't know the combination. The other places didn't need a combination."

"Fuck. Just _pick something,_ Arthur," Renner said. "One of them is starting to take aim!"

Which meant that his projections weren't under his control anymore, and a firefight would be imminent.

Ariadne touched Arthur's arm gently. "It's going to be all right, Arthur. No matter what happens."

"You've always had faith in me to do the right thing," Arthur murmured, knowing as soon as he said it that it was true.

"You'll figure it out. I know you will."

He spun the dial on the combination lock and it clicked into place. He knew it was her birthday as he pulled the door open, though he didn't know how he knew that. It was the memory of a memory, a ghost lingering in the back of his mind.

Nash was there, as Arthur had last seen him in Bordeaux and not when dragged off of Saito's helicopter pad a year ago. He had a welter of scar tissue along his temple and a metal brace over his right leg from the knee to ankle, his foot turned outward slightly even though he was standing straight. He was leaning on a cane, fingers tight across the curved handle. It was a cane sword, Arthur knew; he had seen Nash stick the blade into someone's chest, his eyes flat and emotionless as the man bled to death. "Better him than me," Nash had said, looking up at Arthur with an empty expression. "I can't afford a third mistake with Cobol."

"Nash," Arthur said, looking at his projection of his coworker. No, that didn't sit quite right.

Cobol had found him after Bombay. Their extractor had turned him in for the fee, and Nash had been there. His eyes were empty pools now, and Arthur had wondered what Cobol had done to him as he stood there. "Is this him?" the nameless flunky had asked Nash. At his nod, they had simply began to beat on Arthur. He had felt sharp pain all over his chest, and an arm was pulled up high behind his back as if it would be dislocated out of its socket.

"He's the point man that was on the job," Nash said, voice soulless and flat. It was as if he had been carved out somehow, now just a hollow shell that looked like Nash. "It wouldn't have been his fault it failed. That would've been Cobb. You can stop now."

The flunky beating on him stopped. One of the other three looked at Nash. "So what are we doing with him? Orders were to kill him."

"I have a better idea. I can use him."

Arthur felt the hardwood floor of the apartment beneath his knees. Ariadne was at his side, her arms around his shoulders. The Arthur lying on the concrete of the alley was broken and bloodied, a gun at the nape of his neck. He couldn't tell if Nash was saving his life or getting revenge for not lifting a finger to help him when Saito was clearly threatening him. "I remember," he whispered.

They brought him to an empty room in the Bordeaux office building; its grand opening would be in a month's time. The ghostly remnants of plastic sheeting, shadowy light, ladders and construction tools took on an ominous significance. Arthur was pinned down, and Nash was standing over him, leaning on his cane. There were other nameless, faceless men there with a PASIV; Arthur's eyes were only on Nash. "What happens now?" Arthur had asked, voice even despite the terror spiking through him. _Ariadne. Oh, God, Ariadne..._

"You work for me," Nash said evenly. "Maybe we won't go after Cobb."

"You can't touch him. He's out of the business."

Nash didn't flinch. He didn't care, and Arthur had started to believe that the man didn't care about anything anymore. Whatever Cobol had done to him had burned him out. "You're still in it," Nash replied. His eyes were empty and hollow, shadows making them seem as though they were flat black and demonic. "Something's keeping you in it. The two of you were so fucking codependent it was pathetic."

"I'm good at what I do, that's all."

He had to hide Ariadne. He couldn't let Nash know how important she was, how much she needed him, how much he needed _her._ He couldn't expose her to danger, couldn't let anything bad happen to her. Arthur didn't care what happened to him, as long as she was safe.

"I'll find it," Nash said as his faceless men unspooled the tubing on the PASIV. "They're good at what they do, you know. They find everything. They find it all, and they can lock it all away. I can make it so you're never afraid again. Would you like that? It's nice. Not being afraid." His voice carried no inflection, and Arthur could barely breathe. "Something keeps you going. Something keeps you in the game. I'll find it, Arthur." He squatted down with difficulty, needing to keep his braced leg out to the side for balance. Nash leaned heavily on his cane. "I'll be kinder than you were with me. I know how it goes, how you had to save your own skin. You're just lucky you have skills and contacts I need."

"I didn't know this would happen to you," Arthur said, insistence covering over his panic. "You have to believe me."

"Oh, I do," Nash told him, voice even. Somehow, it would have been easier to take if he had been gleeful at this. "I just don't care. Intention means nothing for these people, only results. You're going to get me those results."

Nash pulled himself up to a standing position again and nodded at the men with the PASIV. "Hook him up and close him out. I need him functioning by next week." Nash smiled at Arthur then, a sharp grimace with teeth. "I have a job to do, and you're going to help me do it."

"You could just ask..." Arthur tried to say, wincing at the unceremonious push of the needles into his skin. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do," he corrected Arthur. "You fuck it up, we all die. Cobol made it very clear. Third and final chance. If you strike out, we're all dead."

He depressed the button with his cane, ignoring Arthur's protests. That grimace of a smile was on his face again. "Good night, Arthur."

The Arthur on Ariadne's floor gasped as something seemed to break inside his mind. He retched on the floor, clutching ribs that suddenly ached. He could feel every blow, every strained tendon as the goons had beaten him. He could feel her lips by his temple, could hear the soothing sounds she made. Ignoring it, he pushed forward, crawling toward the memory already fading to black inside the vault. It crumbled and shattered as he pushed his way through it, into the heart of the bedroom. He looked up, seeing the bedroom as it had been before he left for Bombay. Ariadne was there, brushing out her wild curls. Between the damp air and her shower, her hair was frizzy and wild, and she was laughing at something Arthur was saying. She was in nothing but a cami and boy short underwear, sunlight streaming into the room.

"I'll think of you every day," Arthur had told her, leaning over to put his arms around her. "I'll get you something nice. Yusuf tells me they have great open air markets."

Ariadne tossed her brush aside and wrapped her arms around him after turning in his embrace. "I don't need gifts, Arthur," she had said with a grin. "Just you, here, with me."

His kiss had been tender and passionate at once. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

And then this memory faded, replaced by another as Ariadne knelt beside him on the hardwood floor and linked her hand through his. "I'm here," she whispered softly. "I'm here if you need me."

Arthur pulled her against him and sobbed into the curve of her neck. His mind felt broken somehow, jagged pieces of memory and fears and hopes that he hadn't known were even missing. How had he not known they were gone? How could they take everything that gave his life meaning and leave him empty? How had he not even realized how rich and full his life was with her in it?

Eames and Yusuf were standing in the doorway uncertainly. Adler and Renner were still at the windows, shooting at the projections. "We need to wake up," Eames told them, voice gentle. Arthur never would have thought Eames had it in him, but he had never known him very well before. "The natives are getting restless. But at least they don't look like something out of a horror movie any longer."

"Bring them in here," Arthur said, looking up. "We'll lock ourselves in and then blow it up. We'll wake at the same time."

"And then what?"

"Take down Cobol."

All heads turned toward Ariadne's cold voice. Her jaw was set, her eyes glittering chips of amber. "I will not allow them to do this ever again."

Arthur's hand tightened in hers. "They have to pay for what they've done. Somehow."

Eames nodded slowly. "Fancy a little insider trading?"

"They think they own me. It won't be hard to get in at all."

The smile on Eames' face was cold and calculating. Adler did a double take at it, but Renner didn't seem fazed at all. He simply pulled the vault door shut as Yusuf adjusted the timer on a bomb. "Well, then. Let's get started."

***

True to Arthur's word, no one in the Bordeaux office seemed to think anything was amiss. People in business suits were always going in and out; this office building was one of Cobol's prized jewels in the field, and parts of it was open to the public for publicity. Arthur walked in alone, Ariadne and Yusuf entered as a pair, Eames strolled in with Adler and Renner came in as a tourist on his own. They met up in a relatively unused corridor in the building, and Arthur led them to his office on the fifth floor.

Arthur's fingers flew over the keys as he dove deep into the networks Cobol used to communicate between its various offices. It was nothing to siphon account numbers and financial details, and he dug around to find the communiques between various ranking officers within the company. They were coded, of course; _DC unable to fulfill contract #2. Orders in place to find him and associates in place via usual channels._ Its reply was equally terse: _Architect found and added to current contract. Conversion successful._ He found the memo regarding his own capture and found his jaw clenched tight as he read it. _Architect took on new employee without authorization. If he doesn't earn his place on the contract, terminate him and let the architect know he doesn't have hiring authority._

Eames noted the tension in Arthur's face. "What is it?"

"They knew. They always knew what Nash had them do to me. They did it to him first."

"It must have been a big contract," Ariadne murmured, reading over his shoulder. "What is it?"

"I'm still working on it." He smiled thinly. "They're trying to acquire parts of Fischer-Morrow. He's not selling off the part that they want, so the idea is to incept him to sell it."

Everyone in the room stared at Arthur incredulously.

"Wow," Adler said suddenly. "That... just... I don't even know what to say."

"I do. We put a stop to it now," Ariadne said stiffly. "That's beyond even corporate espionage. They're just destroying people left and right."

"That's the business, Ariadne," Arthur said quietly, staring at the computer. He was considered a new employee, that was all. An asset at the moment, but the minute the higher ups in Cobol thought he was a liability, he was dead and so was Nash. While he didn't feel much one way or another over Nash at this point, he had a reason to stay alive again. Arthur clasped Ariadne's hand in his. She had only wanted him back, to be himself again. She was only beginning to understand how dirty this world really was.

"Not if they're living in the middle of a nightmare," she said. "Not if they don't wake up."

Eames blinked at her as if he didn't know her. Yusuf openly gaped. Adler and Renner hadn't known her before and weren't disconcerted at all. If anything, they seemed impressed. She was going to have quite the reputation by the time this was done.

"I'll call the meeting," Arthur said quietly.

No one disagreed or contradicted him.

***

For CEO's that knew about dream share and regularly hired people to do underhanded things in dreams, Cobol's leaders seemed to think that their position was inviolate. It seemed to be the only explanation why they agreed to meet with Arthur to discuss "concerns" regarding research he had done on Robert Fischer. They didn't know any of the players in the dream share field; they didn't need to, when they could hire and fire indirectly. All they knew was Arthur, and he stated that the others with him were the team. The CEO's had no reason to believe that Arthur would betray them; they felt they owned Arthur completely.

Arthur said with a straight face that he wanted to show them the problem in person, that it was a difficult concept to explain with words, but seeing would be believing. They never once suspected he would betray them.

It was entirely too easy to have Yusuf attach them to the PASIV, to have Adler, Renner and Eames take up the dreams that Ariadne had designed for Arthur. "I don't understand," the vice president said to Arthur, brows wrinkling. "What's this difficult concept you were talking about?"

"Limbo," Arthur said grimly, taking out his Glock.

He didn't even blink when he pulled the trigger on each of them. He turned to Ariadne, feeling her golden eyes on him. Her expression didn't change as she reached out for him. Arthur grasped her hand in his tightly, and headed to the roof of the hotel with her. Eames followed them, checking for stray projections.

They were gone, falling with the lost CEO's into limbo.

Getting out was even easier than going in.

***

"I should feel something about what we did, shouldn't I?" Ariadne asked, Arthur's head pillowed on her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair, carding it gently. He had an arm around her, his hand comfortably resting on her hip.

It was just a month after the CEO, VP and CFO/COO mysteriously fell into a coma. Doctors couldn't explain what sent all three of the men into a persistent vegetative state at the same time, especially considering there were no drugs found in or on their persons. Yusuf's compounds had been fast acting, broken down by the body long before testing could be done. Robert Fischer had no idea just how close he had come to having his mind broken open and altered yet again, and his publicity team had cordially expressed condolences to the families involved and the losses they must be suffering from. Saito had also expressed his concerns regarding Cobol Engineering and its direction, and stated that Proclus Global would host an international energy consortium to help fill the vacuum left in Cobol's wake.

Saito also hired Nash and his team away from Cobol. On a new payroll, they had no need to go after Arthur or Fischer.

Arthur looked up at Ariadne. "You mean guilt, don't you? Because I think relief counts as a feeling."

Ariadne snorted. "Relief definitely counts. But yeah. I mean guilt. I don't feel bad at all for what we did to those men. I'm sorry I didn't start it all sooner, that I waited as long as I did to start tracking you down."

He slid his hand along her torso. "But you did, Ariadne. You did find me." His lips quirked. "And I know it couldn't have been an easy job. I was hard to find."

"I thought I'd lost you. I wasn't going to stop until you were found."

"You're in too deep now, you know that." Arthur shifted his position so that he hovered over her on his hands and knees. "I don't think you could go back to an ordinary life. You're too well known after this. You've even got a team you're part of," he added with a wry twist to his lips. "Even if you tried to go straight, you'd probably be followed or chased or offered more jobs in dream share."

"I know," Ariadne said softly. She reached up and cupped his face in her hands. "I told you. The only option I need is the one that keeps me near you," Ariadne murmured.

"I can't lose you again," he replied softly.

"Then we'd better make sure we're safe," she said, a gentle smile on her face. "You can teach me all your tricks."

"If this has proven anything, it's that you've got quite a number of tricks of your own."

Ariadne laughed. "Never underestimate a man's need to help a cute petite girl in distress."

Arthur laughed with her then leaned down to kiss her. "I'm glad you found me, Ariadne."

"I'm glad you remember," she answered. As long as they were together, Ariadne was sure she could handle it.

The End


End file.
